


The Wedding Video

by moonstone1520



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, John and Mary's Wedding, Requited Unrequited Love, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-09
Updated: 2015-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-25 12:42:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4961059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonstone1520/pseuds/moonstone1520
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock goes through the photos of the Watson's wedding and comes across more than he anticipates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wedding Video

**Author's Note:**

> This was based on the wedding video that's on John's blog over at http://www.johnwatsonblog.co.uk/  
> You can see the wedding video here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p01p6hys  
> I referenced the photos that we saw taken in TSOT, photos that were released, and the photos in the video itself.  
> Unbeta-ed, so all mistakes are mine.  
> I own nothing. Except a kick ass movie collection. So, I guess you can have that.
> 
> I'm not a writer by trade, so this is quite rough. Apologies.  
> But also, enjoy! :)

_Bored_.

Sherlock Holmes sighed in irritation as he deleted yet another meaningless and boring email. No cases, nothing above a four since John and Mary had left for their Sex Holiday… _honeymoon,_ he reminded himself. _Honeymoon._ _So bloody boring_.  
He thought he’d be pleased to be rid of John’s nattering about how the wedding had come off and Mary’s cheeky quips, but the lack of people in his flat only unnerved him. Mrs. Hudson had set off to visit her sister so the entire building was empty. And he was bored.

Due to this boredom, Sherlock took the liberty of hacking into John’s email account. Why not, he can at least take care of the tedious task of dealing with the vendors—Mary had assigned him the responsibility after noticing how serious and involved he became about the planning of the wedding. She rationalized that he could deduce the vendors into discounts if he had to. Well, he had no intention of doing _that_ , but after noticing that the caterer tried to scam a few frivolous charges onto the bill, he decided to follow up on all of the billing inquiries from the wedding. He’d never admit that he took a slight pleasure reducing the caterer to a pitiful mess when he informed the caterer’s wife that the business was slowly going under due to his gambling addiction, and the extra charges being tacked onto various bills was an effort to slow the outgoing flow of money—and evade his wife’s detection.

He slowly went through John’s emails—there had to be at least fifty. _Obviously that Sex Holiday must be going well if he can’t be bothered to check his email for cases,_ Sherlock thought. He filed the invoices away, mentally deciding which ones he’d tackle first, when an incoming email caught his attention.

It was from the photography company. They’d comped all of the services when Sherlock discovered the photographer in question was the Mayfly Man. The owner took special care with John and Mary’s wedding photos himself to avoid any and all publicity that may have deflected onto his company due to the case. Of course, there was almost no damage to the company’s image, but the owner insisted on editing their wedding photos gratis. So, one less thing for Sherlock to deal with.

He opened the email:

_Mr. and Mrs. Watson—_

_Hope you’re enjoying the honeymoon! Despite the fact that my photographer turned out to be a murderer (still can’t believe that, by the way. Complete madness!), he managed to take some **very good** photos. Attached are the ones I was able to recover from the coppers. The remaining ones are still being held as evidence, I’m afraid. But there some quite good shots in here. See what you make of them._

_Congratulations, and cheers!_

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and, curiosity getting the better of him, clicked on the attachment.

Immediately, a panel of images appeared in front of him. The corners of his mouth ticked up in a slight smile as he went through the photos.

 _These are… rather good._  

His eyes softened as he came upon the image of John and Mary laughing after the ceremony. Happiness was a good look for John, Sherlock had to admit. He beamed when he was around Mary, and she wore a look of contented happiness in all of the photos, as though she was made to be by John’s side.

 _Which, she was_. _Obviously_.

He clicked through, soft chuckles emanating every now and again—especially at the image of Mrs. Hudson loudly exclaiming over John and Mary outside of the church. He had to admit, the photos were very good.

He stilled when he came to the image of Tom, Molly and Lestrade. The Detective Inspector was gazing outside of the frame, eyes glazed over, but Tom and Molly looked… happy. Sherlock swallowed hard. He ignored the tightening in his chest as he stared at the image in front of him. Molly looked happy, but her body language told a slightly different story. She was standing slightly apart from Tom. Oh, her arm was around him, but she kept her distance. He was the one leaning slightly into her, while she seemed to be….keeping him at arm’s length.

Sherlock’s brow furrowed. Why on earth was he reading into the body language of his pathologist and her fiancé in a _bloody_ _photo?_

 _Because you want there to be something wrong._ The tiny voice in the back of his mind he made a point to constantly tune out made itself heard, but only for a brief moment. He wasn’t _unhappy_ for Molly. He was pleased she was moving on. Glad she had found someone. Happy she was happy.

Then why did he feel so…empty?

The tightening in his chest reiterated its presence when he came upon more images of Tom and Molly.  She had clearly been drinking, as her cheeks were pinked and her eyes sparkled… _or she’s in love, you git._

“Shut up,” Sherlock growled. There was no doubt that the smiles on both faces were real, and…was that lipstick on Tom’s cheek? Sherlock pushed away from his desk and paced the room, wishing he had a cigarette. He ran his fingers through his hair and exhaled, exasperated.He felt edgy and he didn’t like it, but chose to ignore the reason why the feeling came on. Because he knew the reason, he just didn’t want to admit it to himself.

He didn’t want to admit that he had feelings for Molly Hooper. And that seeing her happy with her fiancé, with the ring on her finger that proclaimed to the world she was a kept woman, was slowly killing him.

No, he wasn’t going to admit that to himself at all.

“Bollocks,” he muttered.

He moved back to his desk and sat down heavily. The picture of Molly and Tom continued to fill his vision. Sherlock closed his eyes, exhaled, and closed the photo.

The tightness in his chest remained, however.

A text alert brought him out of his reverie.

**HEAR BACK FROM LESTRADE ABOUT OUR WEDDING VIDEO? MARY’S GETTING ANXIOUS TO SEE IT. –JW**

Ah, yes. He’d almost forgotten. One of the things that the police seized as related to the investigation, though Sherlock couldn’t imagine how. He had a sneaking suspicion that Anderson was holding on to it to vicariously live out the event. He began to type.

**NO. NOT YET. LESTRADE THINKS IT SHOULD BE ANOTHER WEEK OR SO. WHY WOULD SHE WANT TO SEE IT ANYWAY? MARY WAS THERE. –SH**

**SHE WANTS TO SEND IT TO SOME OF OUR FRIENDS THAT COULDN’T ATTEND THE WEDDING. –JW**

That explains it.

An idea began to formulate itself in Sherlock’s brain. He smirked as he texted John.

**I CAN GIVE YOU THE NEXT BEST THING –SH**

Knowing John would begin to panic and text him endlessly, Sherlock silenced his mobile and got to work. He studiously ignored how his mouth went dry when he sorted through the photos of Molly. And he pretended not to notice his heart skip a beat when he came across a picture of her clasping her hands as she watched him give his speech. He also took care not to read into the look in her eyes too much, not to hope that there was some of the feeling that she harbored for him over the years…

Finally, he was finished. He began an email to John, but stopped and smiled. An email wouldn’t suffice. No, he’d share his project with all of his  _fans_ as well. Sherlock hacked into John’s blog, and began to write, attaching the video at the end. Closing the tab, he found himself staring at the photo of Molly that he had carelessly left open. Sherlock exhaled and, with a heavier heart than when he began his project, closed the file.


End file.
